


it's time to tell a story

by lilithiumwords



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Storytime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: Bilbo thinks Frodo is too much like Thorin sometimes. But he loves him all the same.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Frodo Baggins, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73





	it's time to tell a story

Frodo is very small when he comes to live in Bilbo's smial, but that makes him no less a part of Bilbo's family, nor Bag End no less his home. Somehow a lonely bachelor and a lonely fauntling make a very happy family indeed, if occasionally a solemn one.

Storytime at the end of the day is no different.

"Uncle," says Frodo, his blue eyes wide beyond the blankets pulled to his chin, "Mrs. Gamgee said today that you have always lived alone here before I came, and that you never fell in love. Is that true?"

Bilbo is quite taken aback by the question; but then he should have expected it. Everyone in the Shire has a comment or two about Bilbo's lack of a wife or husband, but Bilbo himself has never cared to answer the gossip. He doesn't blame the Gamgees for the worry, as they have seen his heartache over the years more than most. Still, he could do without the questions.

Not that he will tell a tiny fauntling that.

"That is simply not the case, my boy," Bilbo says solemnly, then ruins it with a little smile. The answering smile from his nephew makes the ache in his heart sting a little less. "I have had my fair share of sweethearts, though it is true that I have never married. My love left me a long time ago, you see."

"Oh," says Frodo, and maybe the boy does understand the sadness that Bilbo cannot quite hide from his tone. He nods just as solemnly, then reaches out to put his hand on Bilbo's arm. "Will you tell me about them? Were they very pretty?"

"I wouldn't call him pretty," Bilbo says with a small laugh. "He was a Dwarf, you see, and not pretty like a Hobbit lass at all. He was very tall, much taller than you or I, and quite striking to look at."

"Well, maybe I'll be just as tall as him one day," Frodo says stubbornly. "Where is he now?"

That is a harder question to answer, and Bilbo dithers for a month on how best to say the words. Finally he sighs and looks to the darkened window. "Just as our green Mother has gentle fields waiting for us, where your dear mother and father wait, Dwarves have the halls of their Father, a mighty place indeed. He waits there, and I should think he will wait a long time yet, for Yavanna's pastures and Mahal's halls are far apart from one another."

"Oh," Frodo whispers, and he looks very sad for a moment, enough that Bilbo wishes he had never said anything at all. Then the boy smiles, a little shyly. "I think there should be a door, then. So that you both may open it and visit each other whenever you like."

Touched, Bilbo struggles to catch his breath. The hope in his chest, and the ache of the loss of Thorin despite so many years since his passing, makes him wipe at his eyes with a handkerchief. He gives Frodo a bright smile when the lad looks so worried. "I think that is a fine idea, Frodo my boy. What should the door look like? Dwarf doors are made of stone and iron, you know, but I should think a gentle wooden Hobbit door would be just as good."

Frodo thinks about it for a moment. "What if it looks like a Dwarf door in the fields, and a Hobbit door in the halls? Then you know that it must go to the other place."

A very sensible plan, indeed. The boy is really too clever; perhaps, someday, Bilbo might ask their green Mother to consider the idea. But that is a faraway thought, and Bilbo has more important things to do: like put a little boy to bed.

"Did I tell you how those Dwarf friends of mine ruined my perfectly good door?" asks Bilbo mildly. He thinks that if he listens to Frodo talk about the afterlife much longer, he will start to cry, and the little boy doesn't deserve to watch Bilbo lose himself in a mess of handkerchiefs and tears.

For all that his memories of Thorin are darkened with despair and sadness, he has a great many happy memories of him too, and of the rest of his Company. Some of whom are due to visit within the year, Bilbo remembers, and who will be delighted to meet his Frodo.

"Your door? You mean, where that strange mark is on the front?" Frodo asks, eyes wide again. Then he frowns. "They shouldn't have done something so rude."

Oh, but Frodo looks so much like Thorin sometimes... blue eyes like him, and dark hair as well. If seeing the boy frown so seriously makes Bilbo want to laugh, thinking of his old King and his scowl, well, Bilbo need not tell anyone those thoughts at all.

"Now it wasn't really the Dwarves' fault," Bilbo says reasonably. He smiles at the thought of that mark, which he hasn't removed despite years of opportunity to do so. Gandalf teases him about it every time he visits. "Mostly it was Gandalf, but he really ought to have asked beforehand. Now, it all worked out for the best, but it was quite troublesome back in the day."

"I should think so," Frodo says with a huff, sounding so much like Thorin for a moment that Bilbo has to laugh.

"Shall I tell you about it, then?"

"Please! I want to know more about your Dwarf, and the door, and Gandalf," Frodo says excitedly, though his eyes are already drooping. With a smile, Bilbo obliges him, knowing that the boy will be asleep before they even reach Rivendell.

Still, now that Frodo lives with him, there will be many nights to tell the story. Perhaps Bilbo should write it down, if he is to tell it so often.

"In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit..."


End file.
